Hunters and assassins
by MrsRegulusBlack123
Summary: It was just his luck, Tsuna decided, that while sending them far away in order to lessen his paperwork, the Varia should have to stay at a haunted hotel... which was being investigated by two certain hunters...
1. Chapter 1

**Soooo... hello people! Yeah, I actually should be getting ready for school right now, but still, here I am, posting a new fic XDD Anyways.. this is somethig I came up with a while ago, it's probably going to either be a one- or twoshot (which means either one or two more chapters after this little prologue I've just written, since I don't really count it as a chapter). For the KHR universe, this is set in TYL... for Supernatural, er, about the third season I guess? Sooo yeah :) I hope you guys like it!**

**_Italics: _Italian, Normal: English**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Katekyo Hitman Reborn... obviously... I wouldn't be sitting around writing fanfiction about it if I did XDD**

* * *

_"Jyuudaime!"_

Tsuna had heard Gokudera Hayato's footsteps thundering down the long hallway even before the man's voice pierced through the silence, causing the 24-year-old brunette to look up from all his paperwork curiously, raising a single eyebrow at his disheveled storm guardian. The man had just burst into the room, and he looked downright distressed.

_"Is something wrong, Hayato?"_ He asked calmly, signing the document in front of him before putting it aside and looking up once again.

_"The Varia, Jyuudaime!_" Gokudera said, pausing for a moment in order to catch his breath as Tsuna pulled the next sheet of papery hell towards himself. _"Th-they arrived at the appointed destination a few hours ago!"_

_"That's great Hayato... if you don't mind though-"_

_"They blew up Heathrow airport!"_

_"They..."_ Tsuna blinked, looked up from the formal document he was reading, opened his mouth and promptly closed it again. _"What...?"_ His right-hand man grimaced apologetically as he raised a pile of papers for Tsuna to see.

_"These are the repair bills... as well as some paperwork to make sure the police, media and other people that happened to be there at the time stay silent and don't get their noses involved..."_

* * *

_"SAWADA! I'VE GOT SOME EXTREME NEWS!"_

_"Onii-san...? What is it?"_

_"MASTER PAO PAO JUST DROPPED BY AND TOLD ME TO GIVE YOU THESE!"_ Tsuna winced at the loudness of his sun guardian, but his attention was soon diverted by another big pile of documents being slammed down on his desk... every inch of which was already covered with unfinished paperwork as it was. The brunette felt his heart sink.

_"Ah... and... what, what are these about?"_

_"I EXTREMELY DON'T KNOW! MASTER PAO PAO SAID THEY CAME FROM TURKEY!"_

_Turkey... wasn't that where Leviathan had been sent on a mission to...?_

And sure enough, the moment the mafia don glanced down at the papers Ryohei had just delivered, he was faced with repair bills... many and many of them...

Apparently, the man's parabolas had been malfunctioning... and the whole village had been set on fire, along with the target.

* * *

_"Is that... a severed arm...?"_ Tsuna asked, turning to look at Reborn, who had brought in the bloody package just moments ago. The infant simply shrugged.

Tsuna frowned and carefully pulled the large envelope out from under the limb, trying to touch it as little as he possibly could. He was not at all surprised when he turned it around to see "for decimo" scribbled in a handwriting he recognized as the Varia's ripper prince's... of course... who else would send the boss of his boss a severed arm?

Shaking his head, Tsuna added the documents inside the envelope to the pile of unfinished paperwork. There wasn't even any need to read through it anymore...

* * *

_"Ahaha! Tsuna, guess what! Squalo dropped by!"_ Yamamoto cheerfully announced._ "These are for you by the way, isn't it nice of him to bring you a present? I wonder what it is!"_

Tsuna didn't even need to glance at the package Yamamoto had given him to know what it was... he simply added it to his never-ending mountain of paperwork.

* * *

_"Kufufu~ guess what-"_

_"Just place them on my desk Mukuro."_

* * *

This was getting ridiculous, Sawada Tsunayoshi decided as he looked at the mess that had once upon a time been his office. It was now filled with papers that had yet to be signed, bills waiting to be paid, folders that needed to be carefully read through before they were approved or turned down... And the Varia certainly was not making things easy for him...

_"Just put them... anywhere where you manage to find some free space Lambo..."_

The teenager wearing a cow-print shirt nodded, putting down the newest addition to his never-ending work on top of some other papers as Tsuna simply watched. _This was completely ridiculous._

How in god's name could seven people cause so much destruction in a _week_?

**A week.**

Seven short days.

Tsuna just couldn't understand how the Varia had managed to somehow blow up an airport, burn down a total of 26 houses, kill 38 people that weren't even on the hit list (unsurprisingly, most of that was Belphegor's work), cause the destruction of 5 cars and burn down a whole village until nothing but ashes remained, and all that in seven short days, 168 hours. How was that even possible...?!

One would think they were purposely going out of their way to cause as much destruction as humanly possible just to watch him suffer as he had to spend day in day out taking care of the messes they created.

Well, the young mafia don decided, this was quite enough. Enough patience and just accepting everything. _Enough_. He needed a break.

Moving over to his office desk, Tsuna sat down, needing to shove some of the various documents scattered all around to dig out his laptop. He shook the mouse a bit until the window popped up and proceeded to immediately open the web browser.

Sawada Tsunayoshi had had more than enough of it. The further away they were, the better.

* * *

Which was, long story short, how the Varia ended up where they were now.

Away from their castle, away from Italy... away from even Europe...

"_VOOOOOOOOOIIIIII! WHERE THE HELL IS THIS FUCKING HOTEL WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE STAYING AT?!"_ Squalo shouted out. Some people turned to look at the man, but the combined intensity of both the swordsman's and Xanxus's glares quickly made them turn away again.

Bel snickered.

"_My my, don't get so upset Squalo..."_ Lussuria hurried to calm his comrade. _"It's got to be here somewhere, we probably just missed it."_

"_DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, LUSSURIA! WE'VE BEEN WALKING IN THIS FUCKING HOT SHIT HOLE FOR HOURS NOW!"_

"_You're always such a pessimist..."_ The Varia's sun guardian pouted. _"We're on vacation...! We should all be happy, shouldn't we? It's been a really long while since we last managed to do that...! Bel was still a kid, remember?"_

"_I didn't even want to come here." _Mammon said as she heaved a sigh. _"I dislike not __getting paid..."_

Bel, who was holding the infant in his arms, snickered again, saying something about Mammon being a greedy little baby as he poked her cheek.

"_Senpaaaai... it's so hot here, can't I take this hat off?"_

"_No way. I already told you, that hat stays on until you die."_

"_Che. Stupid fake prince."_

That comment earned Fran a free stab to the frog hat.

"_JUST SHUT IT, BOTH OF YOU! LETS JUST FIND THIS HOTEL BEFORE XAN-" _The swordsman looked around, and blinked._ "VOOOOOOOOIII! THAT DAMN BOSS! HE MOVED ON WITHOUT US AGAIN!"_

And so, the professional hitmen all hurried to catch up with Xanxus as Levi trailed several meters behind them, his arms shaking from the sheer weight forced on them as he carried the scarred man's throne and all of the others' bags (Bel had made sure to pack a whole lot of useless shit, just for the sadistic enjoyment of watching the idiot try to carry it) and suitcases.

But no one really cared about him...

* * *

Back in Italy, Sawada Tsunayoshi was now snuggled into his bed covers comfortably, a small smile gracing his lips as he mentally congratulated himself for shipping the Varia off to America for a few weeks.

Finally, _finally_, he could enjoy some moments of relaxation.

_If only he knew..._

If only he knew that the Varia never _did _find their actual hotel and improvised instead, threatening the owner of another hotel... a very luxurious but dangerous hotel, for a room. If only he knew some people were about to meet the Varia, and that that meeting would give the young boss a shitload of paperwork he could not even start imagining right now...

And it all started with some simple words uttered by the man sitting in the passenger seat of a certain black '67 chevy impala.

"Dean, I think I found us a job."


	2. Chapter 2

"Right. What have we got?" Dean Winchester asked, leaning in over the window his black '67 chevy impala (his baby, as he often called it) as he poked his head inside and grinned at his younger brother.

After approximately nine hours of being cooped up in the car and almost no sleep at all, the brothers had finally reached their destination as the slowly rising sun made its appearance from behind the mountains and over the trees, indicating the beginning of another hellishly hot summer day. It had been like that for some days now, and while most people were enjoying this opportunity and going to the nearest beach or swimming pool, maybe even just sitting in their backyard and sunbathing, you didn't like the sun nearly as much when you had to drive about in a black car and hunt monsters all day long, the temperature just over 103°F.

They had just now reached the town of their newest job and it was already seven AM, neither having yet had anything to eat since before they left Bobby's.

Naturally, Dean had suggested they fill their stomachs before moving on to anything else _("Oh come on Sammy, you can't expect me to dig up graves and kick demons' asses back to hell with an empty stomach, do you?_")_. _Sam had simply rolled his eyes at his brother's words, returning his gaze and attention back to his research immediately afterwards.

Now, Dean held up two paper bags, lightly shaking them at the taller man, a certain excited glint distinguishable in his eyes. "Oh, and guess what I've got in here, Sammy."

From his place in the car's passenger seat, his brother spared him a glance before mentally shaking his head in exasperation, not even bothering to comment on the 'Sammy' thing any longer. It was a lost cause.

"Let me guess," He pretended to mock think, "pie."

"But of course." The older Winchester grinned, content with with his purchases as he got inside the impala himself and set down their breakfasts. He passed Sam the bag that was his before happily starting on his own.

If he had pie, Dean Winchester was a happy man. Or that was at least what Sam had learned to interpret the whole thing as.

The younger Winchester cleared his throat.

"Okay, so... there's this hotel. Very expensive, like... Paris Hilton expensive or something... and check this out, over the last twenty years, thirteen people have died there. All of them in the same room, all of them suicide. Or so the police says, truth is they couldn't really pinpoint any other cause of death for it... so they brushed it off as suicide. One man back in 1995 hanged himself in the closet with his wife's scarf, his wife had been out all day, another, this one in 1992, drowned himself in the sink, one woman, that was in 2006, no wait make that 7, burned to death... in her bathtub while no fire was reported... no one even smelled any smoke, there weren't any ashes or anything that could've started the fire nearby... she was simply found _charred _in her bathtub_._"

Dean nodded through a mouthful of pie, having heard enough weird things in his job as a hunter not to seem surprised by this.

"So, vengeful spirit..?"

"Could be..." Sam sighed in mild irritation as he frowned, getting to the part that bugged him "but... there seems to be no link." The Winchester furrowed his eyebrows, lips being pressed together tightly. "Men, women, all of them are of different ages, different backgrounds, sometimes their companion dies, others he or she is left alive, no particular pattern in killings... some times people stay there and nothing even happens. I mean, the victims don't even have anything in common aside from the fact they're all dead. The killings just seem so... random..."

"There's no such thing as _random killings_ in our line of work, Sammy." Dean simply said, crunching up his food wrapper and throwing it back in the paper bag. "There's always a link, and we're going to find it, dig up some bones and burn some asshole back to where he came from."

* * *

Getting to the hotel wasn't very hard... it was well known and as they stopped to ask for directions a couple of times, everyone seemed to know its location. But even if that had not been the case... it was so big and luxurious and simply... _extravagant_, that it was next to impossible to miss it anyway.

There were big, golden chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, leather sofa's placed tastefully all around the room, soft classical music playing in the background as what looked like butlers wandered around the place, dressed in what were undoubtedly very expensive tuxedos and carrying glasses of champagne on silver platters. Every now and then, someone would take a glass, and then take a sip of it before returning to their conversations. And this, this was only the lobby.

Dean did not miss the chance to take a glass of champagne from a passing staff member as his brother and himself made their way over to the hotel's reception, each dressed in a black suit, fake FBI badges tucked inside their breast pockets.

"Ma'am," Dean spoke, pulling out his ID as the receptionist looked up from her paperwork, her expression somewhat surprised, though it quickly turned to a polite smile.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"We're agents Boyle and Henderson, FBI. We're here to take a look at one of your rooms... room..." he paused, taking a moment to throw Sam a glance.

"302." The younger quickly supplied with a polite smile of his own.

"Yes, 302."

The receptionist, 'Kathy', as her name tag indicated, looked perplexed for a moment, her confusion showing on her face as she echoed the brother's words and simply repeating the room number, her tone of voice questioning.

"Oh, no no... don't worry about it. Just routine checking, you know, before we close the case."

"Oh. Alright... erm, just- would you please give me a moment...?"

"Of course." Dean gave her a charming kind of smile and Sam had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as the older hunter took another sip of his champagne. "What? I can't be nice to people?"

"Whatever."

They waited for a few moments, silently scanning their surroundings and pausing to glance at the receptionist every now and then, waiting for her to get off the phone with who was (presumably) her boss. Finally, she hung up, walking back to them and smiling as she grabbed a key from somewhere behind the high desk.

"Well, my boss isn't very pleased with this... but authorities are authorities... I would escort you, but..." She gave an apologetic kind of shrug "I can't leave the reception unattended. It's on the third floor, just take the elevator, right over there, first door on the left. There are guests in the room next door... so please... do try not to disturb them..."

Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly at the way she bit her lip as she spoke of the 'guests in the room next door' with something that almost resembled dread in her voice. After years of doing this, he quickly recognized the signs when there was something people were intentionally not telling, for whichever reason it was like that and whatever it may be that they were hiding. Simply deciding to ignore it for now (he guessed that in such a big-shot hotel annoying and easily irritable guests weren't all that uncommon), the tall man took the key and thanked 'Kathy' as his brother and himself turned to get to the elevator.

"Here, good champagne by the way." Dean pushed his now empty champagne glass in the hands of a man wearing a tuxedo who had just been passing by, and Sam couldn't help but notice how the latter stopped walking as he looked down at the crystal glass, looking nothing short of utterly scandalized.

"Dude" Sam elbowed his brother "I don't think that was a butler." He hissed, to which Dean simply smirked.

As they stepped inside the elevator, Sam was torn between being amused and exasperated. Well, that's Dean for you...

The elevator dinged, the soft (supposed to be calming but actually very annoying) music that had been playing in the background coming to a stop as the number three button lit up and the doors opened.

And that was when Sam promptly wished they'd remained closed after all.

"What the _hell_, dude?!"

A glint of silver was all that the brothers had the time to catch sight of before a _knife _flew right at them, swishing right past the younger Winchester's left ear and getting stuck on the metallic surface just behind them with a dull _thump_.

"Oops, ushishi" A young blonde poked his head inside the elevator, his hidden eyes scanning the space and seeming to spot the brothers quickly enough as a rather disturbing grin appeared on his face. "The prince missed."

Sam and Dean could only watch on in a dumbstruck kind of silence as the man came inside, not even bothering to apologize for _almost chopping someone's ear off, _and casually pulled the knife out of where it was stuck. He took a moment to inspect it, before shrugging and simply leaving the elevator again.

No, seriously, _what the actual hell-?_

"... do you peasants have any actual business on this floor, or are you just going to stand there and let the elevator take you down again?"

"Uh, yeah... sure, alright..."

The man snickered at Dean's still somewhat dumbfounded expression, twirling the knife that had very nearly hit Sam around his fingers with apparent (and very worrying) ease. The brothers made a bigger than usually necessary semi-circle around the blonde before continuing their way down the hallway.

It wasn't a long walk to room 302, but boy was it memorable...

The blonde didn't follow them, thank fucking Christ for that, but they hadn't even taken as much as five steps down the hallway before a loud scream of what sounded like "VOOOOOOOIIIII!" (whatever the hell _that _was) pierced their ears. Both involuntarily flinched as whoever let out the first shout continued yelling in that same loud volume in a language they couldn't understand.

There was what sounded like glass breaking, and more shouting, sounds the brothers couldn't quite identify and a third, more muffled voice seemed to be trying to calm the opposing parties down. They could then hear Prince Creepy back in the same hallway as them snickering as he reentered the room he'd come from.

_Just what was going on in that room? _Yeah, never mind that... Dean was pretty sure they were better off not knowing.

Reaching the suite they'd come for in the first place, Sam pulled out the key card and unlocked the door, pushing it open and switching the light on.

"..."

"...Wow." Dean whistled, green eyes taking in what looked like a living room, and not the living room of some poor bastard either. Leather sofas', red carpets, golden chandeliers, velvet curtains, a big-ass TV... a mini bar... there were four more doors, leading to separate parts of the suite. "Not bad, eh Sammy?"

Sam shook his head in a "whatever" kind of way, taking the EMF meter out of his coat's inner pocket and switching it on.

* * *

"No EMF, no sulfur, no... freaky ectoplasm... dude, there's no sign anything was ever wrong at all."

"So what, all of the deaths were just... freaky coincidences?" The taller of the two questioned, his tone making it quite clear that he doubted that was the correct answer. The other snorted, coming to a stop in front of the elevator and pressing the button.

"Just how often is the shit we come across just a 'freaky coincidence'?."

"Almost never?"

"Pretty much."

The elevator doors opened, and the conversation somehow turned to lunch from there.

"_Mammon-chan? Oh, there you are...!_" The hooded infant turned her head in order to look at the Varia's sun guardian as he joined her in the hallway, the feathery boa looking as offending to the eyes as ever... really though, neon pink? Well... this _was _Lussuria. Mammon dispelled the illusion that made her invisible to others and sighed, chubby fingers playing with the indigo pacifier around her neck.

"_Yes, Lussuria?" _She expectantly asked. There was no use in trying to hide after already having been spotted anyway.

"_Well, nothing really... aren't you coming back inside? We got the AC working, it's nice and cool."_

"_Mu... alright, I suppose." _The infant shrugged, turning around and reentering the suite all of them stayed at, her teammate following not far off behind.

_Room 302..._ so she had been right after all.

Not that Mammon had ever, for even a moment, doubted her abilities. She wasn't one of the Varia's best and the famed mist arcobaleno, once a renowned psychic, for nothing... the cursed infant had full confidence in her abilities.

So when something about the room next to theirs seemed to set off a mental 'alarm' of sorts within her head, imaginary lights flaring bright red and sirens going off loudly, the illusionist had not doubted its authenticity. It hadn't been the first time this kind of thing happened.

Their presence usually wasn't that strong, it wasn't that suffocating and dark... though those certain few exceptions always existed. She remembered them from her childhood, when she had attracted them like a magnet, they had been drawn to her, almost like a moth to a flame. Back then they had terrified her, and even now she still did everything in her power to avoid them.

_It _seemed to be restricted within room 302 for now though, so really, Mammon didn't bother with it. She wasn't scared anymore. Whatever this _thing _in the room next to theirs was (though she already had a pretty good idea indeed), it had nothing to do with them.

She didn't see a reason for her to get involved, especially since she was not going to get paid.

The ignorant fools were never grateful anyway, she had found that out long ago, they would complain and charge you for anything that had accidentally been broken. So why bother being a selfless idiot? Collecting money at least got you somewhere in life...

* * *

_She was angry. She was furious! PISSED!_

_Those disgusting creatures! Those vile monsters living in the same society as everyone else! They didn't deserve it! They deserved death! **Death**!_

_Disgusting._

_She hated them. She wanted to kill them all. She wanted to rip them to shreds. She wanted to burn them. To torture them. To make them suffer. Just like she did... _just like she did_. She didn't feel bad, because those filthy animals deserved it._

_They didn't even deserve to be called humans!_

_They deserved to **die**!_

… _A new one had arrived. They had checked in just that afternoon, him and his wife. She wasn't interested in the wife though._

_But she immediately knew. She **knew** the man was what she was looking for._

_Her chest burned with hatred as she watched him, unseen by all... though not for long._

_He would die, like the pig he was._

* * *

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

"Huh...? Whu- what? Dean...?" Sam sat up in the bed, looking around in confusion, still much too tired to comprehend what was going on exactly for a few moments. They were in this cheap little motel room just outside of town, and it looked like Dean had just come back from getting them breakfast. He was holding two Starbucks coffees and what looked like a couple of sandwiches. "It's ten?" The younger Winchester finally asked, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at the alarm clock next to his bed.

Dean shrugged, putting their breakfasts down on the table.

"I would've let you continue your beauty sleep, Sammy, but take a look at this."

Sam easily caught the newspaper being thrown at him, muttering something that vaguely sounded like a half-hearted "shut up" at Dean before unfolding the paper, brown eyes scanning the headline.

His eyebrows furrowed.

"Lucky lotto winner gets killed in freak accident?"

"Looks like he wasn't so lucky after all, huh?" Dean grinned, but seeing that Sam didn't look all that amused by his joke, he simply dropped it. His brother could be such a freaking killjoy at times.

"This was in the hotel we were in yesterday?"

"Yeah. And three guesses in which room he died." Dean didn't wait for Sam to respond. "Well, you won't find any specifics in the paper, but I looked into it. Check this out. His skull was practically flattened, crushed bones, internal bleeding. He had been lying on the sofa watching TV a few moments before, according to his wife."

"Right." Sam sighed, pushing himself out of bed and grabbing his clothes from yesterday... they hadn't put their suits away yet, and turned out it was a good thing they hadn't either.

They pulled on their suits and spent the next thirty minutes getting to the hotel.

It was crowded, just like it had been the day before, but even though the lobby seemed to have been ruled by a calm, pleasant atmosphere yesterday, there was no sign of that today. Many of the guests seemed to be frantic to check out, and 'Kathy', along with two of her co-workers, were trying (in vain) to keep everything in order. It didn't look easy.

The Winchesters only had to quickly flash their badges, and a short nod was all they needed to be on their way.

They followed the same route as they had the day before, and thankfully, when they reached the third floor this time around, no crazy self-proclaimed prince was standing there to ambush them. The hallway was filled with police officers instead, most of them gathered inside and around room 302.

"Officer." Sam said, nodding at the man in a short but not impolite kind of way as both of the brothers took their badges out once again. The man spared them a glance before nodding as well, in approval.

"Agents." He greeted them back with a sigh. "Well, you're here fast."

"It's our job." Dean simply said, waving it off and taking the topic of conversation to more pressing matters. "Now, what do you have for us?"

"A dead body and no explanation..." Sam raised his eyebrow in an inquiring kind of gesture, prompting the man to go on. "Yes, well, the guy's name was Roger Bennett, 46, no kids... he won the lotto a couple of weeks ago and quit his job. He and his wife were making a trip around the States... they were going to leave for California today."

"What about his cause of death?"

"Exactly what you've read. His skull was fractured, broken bones... it wasn't a pretty sight... if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was ran over by a car. That's impossible of course, the guy never even left the room..."

"Right, and the wife...?"

"She's very distraught."

"Yes, yes... but did she mention anything... a bit weird? Anything at all?"

The man took a few moments to think of it before he slowly shook his head.

"Not really."

"Anything at all. It might seem insignificant... like... flickering lights? A sudden drop of temperature, perhaps?"

"I don't... actually, Mrs. Bennett did mention the room suddenly going cold a little while after her husband went to talk to the neighbors... but that probably was just-"

"Wait, wait. Hold on. Rewind. You said they went to talk to the neighbors?" Dean questioned, and the officer nodded.

"Oh, yes! Well, they were being awfully loud, so Robert Bennett went to ask them to keep it down apparently..."

The brothers exchanged a look.

"And, um, about how long was that before...?"

"Half an hour."

"Alright, thanks for your help, officer."

With another nod, the Winchesters turned around to leave, not stopping to talk to anyone else as they got out in the hotel's third-floor hallway. No one really paid any attention to them either, too busy talking to each other, taking pictures and combing through the crime scene.

"Dude," Dean hissed, shutting off his EMF meter and putting it away in his jacket's inner pocket as he took a look around him. He then leaned in closer to the younger hunter, making sure they weren't overheard. "EMF's going crazy. It was practically dead yesterday."

"Well," Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair "We at least know we've got a ghost on our hands.. that aside though, these 'people next door' sound pretty suspicious, don't you think?"

"That's for sure." Dean snorted and the Winchesters exchanged a look.

The younger hunter nodded, taking a moment to straighten out his tie as Dean knocked on the door numbered as 301.

Little did they know that a fateful encounter with some people they wouldn't forget for a long long time was about to occur.

They stood there in silence for a small while, and simply hoped that whoever opened the door, it wouldn't be the tiara-wearing blonde from the day before. Neither of them were exactly looking forward to another encounter after all... the one from yesterday was enough to last a lifetime.

Dean knocked again after a few more moments of waiting, a bit louder this time.

"Coming, coming~"

After what sounded like a lock turning, the door was opened... only to reveal a well tanned tall man with a red Mohawk and a green tuft of hair sticking to his forehead. He was wearing a pair of red sunglasses, a bright orange boa wrapped around his shoulders, and at the moment he was... checking them out.

Sam awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Uh... excuse me, sir... we are federal agents. We would like to speak to you and your roommates about what happened next door."

The man seemed to be a bit surprised as he took a look at the badges the Winchesters held out for the umpteenth time this day, hesitating as he looked back over his shoulder, pressing his lips together. From somewhere further inside the suite what sounded like an argument in a foreign language (whatever it was, it sounded pretty heated) could be heard.

"Ah... I'm not entirely sure this is a good time, agent-" He paused to get a look at the badge again "agent Boyle."

"We'll only be a few minutes."

The man sighed, frowning, looking back over his shoulder once more and seeming to reconsider it before finally sighing again.

"Alright then." He moved aside, allowing them entrance to the room. The Winchesters nodded their thanks and allowed the man to close the door behind them before following him into the living room.

He called out something in the language they all seemed to be speaking (Italian, if Sam had to take a guess), and though the brothers got nothing of what their (rather hostile) conversation consisted of, they did catch "FBI" being mentioned once or twice. They settled for looking around the room and observing its occupants instead as matters between the roommates were solved.

There was a tanned man with scars covering a big part of his face sitting in an armchair in the very back of the room, right next to the window. His eyes were closed and there was a still half full glass of what looked like red wine on the table next to him... he seemed to be sleeping as another man, a dark-haired, burly person with a hairdo that made him look like he had been electrocuted, stood by him, waving with a sheet of paper in front of the tanned man's face in order to offer a bit of cool air against the heat.

A _green_-haired boy that seemed to be in his late teens was sitting in the sofa, looking like he couldn't care less about what was going on around him as he seemed to be reading a book. He glanced up once, dull green eyes of the same shade as his hair lingering on the Winchesters for a few moments before he looked back at his book again. The terrifying thing, really, was that in this giant black frog hat of his, no less than six knives were stuck... and the boy didn't even seem to mind!

A hooded baby sat next to the youth, drinking some pink liquid out of a long glass, a frog sitting on top of its hoodie. It was a cloak, really, and it covered her eyes completely. Upon closer inspection he/she (the brothers honestly couldn't tell) had two upside down triangles painted on his/her cheeks. The infant also had an indigo pacifier around his/her neck.

The blonde from the day before and a man with very long silvery white hair had been standing in the middle of the room, the latter looking nothing short of murderous as he glared at the other man... and the former, well, he simply looked amused, a huge grin spread out on his lips.

The man that had opened the door a while ago seemed to be trying to calm the two of them down, speaking in rapid Italian and finally managing to get the blonde 'prince' to put his creepy little knives away.

"VOOOOIII! WE'RE BUSY PEOPLE, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!"

The Winchesters' heads snapped in the silver-haired man's direction, eyes slightly wide as they were taken by surprise... not only by the loudness of the man's voice, but also the fact that they were suddenly (finally) being addressed to. In English.

"Right. Uh, we'd like to ask you a few questions... concerning what happened yesterday."

"The peasant that died next door?" The blonde casually guessed, having taken a seat in the sofa next to the infant and currently making himself comfortable... not particularly caring that he was causing others discomfort by doing so (the green haired boy had almost no space left to himself). "We had nothing to do with that, ushishi~"

"We never suggested you did." Dean responded, eyes narrowed at the blonde in distrust. Sam couldn't really say he blamed him either, the guy _had_ thrown a knife at them the day before (which he still hadn't apologized for, they figured he simply never would) and his words didn't help make him look any less suspicious.

"So," Sam cleared his throat, pulling everyone's attention to himself as he went on "we have reasons to believe that Roger Bennett had been here about half an hour before his death... that should've been at about, half past eight. Is that correct?"

"So what if it was?"

"_Bel-chan...! _Hoho, don't listen to this silly little boy ("What was that, peasant?")" The man wove 'Bel-chan' off, laughing into his hand. "Well, to answer your question, yes, he-"

"Ah, that's right, wasn't that the guy that knocked on our door last night and told the long-haired commander to shut it?" The boy with the frog hat blurted out, his voice a complete monotone. He didn't seem particularly concerned that he had interrupted someone else... or that this was supposed to be the FBI they were talking to. He didn't even seem to acknowledge the brothers' presence at all. The blonde sharing the sofa with him and the baby grinned once more.

"Ushishi~ the idiot shark proceeded to wake up boss with his screams after that! The tips of his hair are still charred!"

"VOOOOOIIII! SHUT UP!"

"Uh..." Sam tried to come in between (metaphorically speaking of course, no one was idiotic or suicidal enough to attempt to literally do that) before a fight started... but he was unsuccessful.

"Don't aggravate yourself like that, captain... your heart won't be able to handle it, being your age and all..."

"FRAN! YOU LITTLE SHIT! I'M 32! VOOOII!"

"Excuse me..."

"Guys...! Don't fight now!"

"My point exactly... you're an old hag..."

"Ushishi~"

"AN OLD WHAT NOW?! WHY YOU LITTLE-"

"Hello...?

"Squ-chan!"

"I'M GOING TO CHOP YOU UP, BASTARD! I'M GOING TO- BEL! KEEP THOSE SHITTY KNIVES OF YOURS OUT OF THIS! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE- NO! PUT THEM AWAY, YOU LUNATIC!"

"You can't order around a prince~"

"A fake prince, you mean."

"PRINCE MY ASS! I OUGHT TO JUST KI-"

That was when, with a surprising amount of force, what looked like a blur of red crashed against the loud person's head, causing the man to let out another loud exclamation of "VOOOOOIII!" as he retreated, hands clutching his head as he muttered darkly, though sufficiently silenced. Silence filled the room instantaneously.

"Shut your fucking trap, trash."

It was the man sitting in an armchair by the window... the one that had seemed to be asleep upon their entrance. He hadn't even gotten up... but the wine glass that had been on the table next to him was suspiciously missing. Sam had to suppress a shudder as he glanced at the silver-haired man in worry... that must've _hurt. _It was honestly a wonder the man was still conscious after that.

The air within the room seemed to have changed now that the man's red (-_red?-_) eyes had been opened... from chaotic and crazy to just... tense. Everyone seemed to just have frozen, eyes on the newly awoken man, not daring to utter a sound.

Taking one last look at the people there, the man leaned back into his chair again.

"Trash." This time, he seemed to be nodding at the man with the black hair which was sticking out in all directions. "Get me a refill."

"Yes, boss! Right away, boss!"

The man jumped right into action, turning around and leaving the room as fast as his legs could carry him. Strangely enough, he didn't seem to be doing so out of fear, Sam noted. Was that pride?

"Voooiii... that damn boss." 'Squalo' (as they had heard the man getting called) had rejoined them... and the silence was not getting any less uncomfortable. Just when Dean had been contemplating whether or not it was safe to go on yet, the red-eyed man spoke up.

"Who're those trashes?"

"U-ushishi..." The blonde shifted nervously.

"Uh, well boss... um-"

"We are federal agents." Dean decided to step in then, moving closer to the man and showing his badge. Sam followed his lead, doing the same.

The group's 'boss' raised his eyes to the Winchesters' faces, then to the badges and simply looked away again after a few moments. His red eyes slipped close.

"Get out."

"Huh?" Sam glanced at Dean, as if to say "did he just say what I thought he did...?", but his brother looked just as surprised as he felt.

"Er..." This had never happened before... and it was beyond shocking to have it actually happen.

"You heard me, trash. Get out."

"This is an investigation, sir, and if-"

"You're not cops."

The temperature in the room seemed to suddenly drop several degrees, and for once, it was not because of a supernatural creature lurking about. Identical thoughts seemed to be swirling through the brothers' minds. How? How the hell had this person been able to tell when their Ids had no trouble fooling federal agents, _real _federal agents? It was unrealistic... and as it seemed to often be the case when it came to these people, the hunters were unsure of how to act next. No, really, what the hell? No one had ever been able to tell they were not actually who they said they were before even running a scan on them.

"I don't know how those trashes didn't realize any sooner." The 'trashes' in question all seemed to shrink back as his gaze turned to them, even looking like they were holding their breaths for a moment there, but the man did nothing, he simply returned his gaze to the Winchesters. "I don't care who the fuck you are. Just get the hell out of my sight."

* * *

The next few days consisted of mainly observing the strange group. The brothers parked their impala outside the hotel (in a strangely convenient place that allowed them to not be immediately noticeable if someone wasn't looking for them) long before sunrise, and with a pair of binoculars they took turns keeping an eye on room 301's residents.

Just like every single damn thing seemed to go like in their line of work... these people just kept getting weirder and weirder by the moment. Weird, meaning utterly suspicious. And not the good kind of suspicious either.

It was the bad kind, which was practically synonymous with possibly supernatural.

In all truth, the Winchesters did not know what to make of the seven strange individuals they had by complete accident stumbled across. They only knew that, whoever (or _what_ever) they were... they could not be human.

They just couldn't.

The baby had the freaking ability to fly, for crying out loud! It could literally hover in midair.

They were sure they had seen a hole get blasted in the wall earlier two days ago, yet the moment they had blinked... it was _gone_! Poof. No trace of anything ever having happened.

Then there was the green-haired boy, he was getting stabbed on a daily basis and yet he didn't do as much as flinch... often he just walked around with the knives sticking out of his hat and back all day long!

In a particularly heated fight, they had even had flames (of blue and red colors!) appear from a ring. A shark and a feline-like creature appeared out of two tiny _boxes_, engulfed in those flames.

They were demons. The Winchesters were not sure what kind of demons they were, but they _were_ demons, they fit all the criteria.

Sure, they had never seen any of them leave the bodies they were possessing, but that should simply be because it was not necessary for them to.

They had inhuman powers (the baby and the green-haired boy at least seemed to) and the blonde could make knives hover in the air, as if they were all being held by an invisible string or something. They had a baby with them that could talk about complicated matters and fly. The boss guy could throw fireballs.

And sure, they hadn't caught any flash of black eyes, but the group's boss had _red_ ones. That was never a good sign. Red eyes meant crossroads demons. Crossroads demons meant trouble. And even so, half of the group had their eyes hidden from view. Any one of the three could have some demonic mutation hiding under there.

Yes, there was no way that they weren't demons of some kind.

The trouble was that no matter how hard they researched, they just could not seem to dig up anything on those demons. They even sicked Bobby on their case but even he drew a blank when it came to the residents of room 301...

They really were a mystery the Winchesters couldn't, for the life of them, figure out.

* * *

They were no idiots. Far from it in fact, especially him... being a genius _and _a prince.

But his teammates as well, they weren't all too stupid themselves... after all, not just any pathetic little peasant riffraff could manage to get inside the Varia. There was a little thing called Varia quality that they had to have before they were even allowed close to the castle, let alone in their ranks. As a matter of fact, even Levi, who may sometimes seem like he was the biggest idiot to have ever roamed the green earth... was one of the Varia's most skilled.

They were assassins, and as top-notch assassins that had yet to fail a single mission (that fiasco with the ring battles graciously being ignored), they of course knew they were being watched from the very first day... what kind of a pathetic excuse of mafiosi would they have been if they hadn't? They hadn't earned the reputation of being demons for nothing. They were after all _Varia quality._

The only reason for which these peasants were still breathing, was because Boss didn't really seem to care about their presence there. He was content with ignoring them in favour of chucking wine glasses at his second-in-command's head. Had it been Bel's decision though, the fake cops would be six feet under now... that of course was providing that they managed to retrieve all of the peasants' body parts.

_Ushishi~_

Squalo had made a few phone calls right after the men had left their hotel room that day, and within half an hour they'd been able to figure out their real names. Strictly speaking, they weren't supposed to be making any phone calls to their computer nerds back in Italy (neither were they supposed to have taken weapons along), but what Sawada Tsunayoshi didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? That's what the Varia figured at least.

So now they knew...

Sam and Dean Winchester. They were among the most wanted criminals of the US. Accused of murder, kidnapping, identity theft and whatnot.

The Varia was not worried, had the police back in Italy not been so scared of them, they would've been accused for worse. Much, much worse. Their whole record, though impressive, didn't even get _close_ to what Prince The Ripper would accumulate in a couple of months.

So no, they weren't worried that two highly wanted criminals had been in their hotel room, pretending to be cops, and were watching them from their old black car just outside the hotel. Insignificant little criminals like that were no match to the Varia, they were even free to give it a try if they so desired. Bel would be more than happy to prove them wrong...

It had been a while since he had gotten to kill or at least maim something with his knives (Fran did not count), and Prince Belphegor was rapidly growing tired of it all. He liked vacations, but not when they were synonymous to not killing.

Belphegor had been bored, that was the plain truth of the matter... and everyone knew princes shouldn't get bored... the peasants should be kneeling at his feet ready to take his every command and entertain him right now. Unfortunately, that rarely was the case when it came to the Varia.

So the prince decided to take a walk... and he might've 'accidentally wandered off' and found himself in front of Sam and Dean Winchester's car._ By total accident, of course._

Bel grinned as he realized the men had caught sight of him, the alarm that was clearly showing up on their faces as they seemed to be exchanging meaningful looks making him chuckle.

Oh this was going to be _fun~_

He wasn't allowed to kill them, but no one said anything about him not being allowed to scare the peasants a little.

"Ushishi~ you're back." Bel snickered, casually leaning in and resting his forearms on the open window. He was looking much too relaxed for the Winchesters' comfort, and this little fact only served to amuse the prince further. He cocked his head, grin dimming a little as he caught sight of the shorter one reaching for something in the waistband of his jeans. "I wouldn't do that if I were you... the prince bets he could stab you three times faster than you could pull out whatever you're hiding. Same goes for you." He nodded at Sam Winchester, causing the man to pull back and away from the glove box.

The smirk returned and the prince started to slowly trace his finger along the black car's surface. He noted with satisfaction that neither of the criminals took their eyes off it for even a moment, watching his every move carefully.

"So~" He finally drawled out, snapping the peasants' attention back to his face as he pulled his hand back and folded it over the rolled down window once more, on top of his other arm. "Sam and Dean Winchester... ushishishi, who would've guessed?"

"What-?!" The brothers exchanged an alarmed look, both suddenly sitting a little straighter in their respective seats, their glares a little more intense. This caused the prince's grin to grow even more. "How do you know that?"

Belphegor shrugged.

"The prince has his sources..."

They seemed to take the hint, or some sort of hint at least (Belphegor wasn't certain if the Varia's reputation had reached America, even though that was very likely, especially in the underground circles), either way, their glares suddenly grew a lot harder.

"You're with yellow-eyes."

It was more of a statement rather than a question, and though Bel had no idea who on Earth this 'yellow-eyes' they referred to was, the assassin prince was in dire need of some entertainment. He decided to humor them.

"Maybe," he shrugged "maybe not. What will you do about it?"

"..."

"..."

"This!" Before the blonde had the time to even start comprehending what exactly was going on, a little silver flask of water was emptied right in his face. He flinched back, mouth dropping open in complete shock, hidden eyes wide as the water dripped down his chin. "Take this you black-eyed-"

"Uhh... Dean-"

"Huh? What the-"

"What the _hell, _peasant?!"

"Err... this wasn't supposed to happen. Sam, this wasn't supposed to happen." Dean Winchester hissed even though Belphegor could hear them quite clearly still. "Why isn't the holy water working?"

"I ought to kill you."

"Uh... Christo...?"

"You are dead, peasants."

* * *

Curiosity killed the cat.

Fran had heard the idiom before, yet he never really thought anything of it. In all truth, was it even curiosity that had led him there in the first place? Not really, right? If the green-haired boy had to take a pick, he'd say it was boredom.

Either way, that did not change the fact that he was currently standing in room 302, the door behind him having swung shut mere seconds ago, plunging the place into complete darkness.

Fran sighed, taking a moment to blindly search for the light switch as he asked himself, once again, _why _he was there.

_Right, _too much noise in their suite... even with the freaky stab-happy fake prince gone, he just couldn't read his book in peace. There was the long-haired commander screaming like a banshee in the one corner of the room, and Lussuria fangirling (fanboying?) like crazy about something on TV, imaginary pink hearts practically pouring out of him and suffocating anyone that dared get anywhere close to the man, in the other.

It was impossible to concentrate in there, so Fran had simply decided to take his book and go somewhere else. Downstairs wasn't an option as he would be facing the chance of running into Bel, and that was the last thing he needed right now, and he didn't really fancy going outside.

It had seemed like an alright idea at the time... corpses didn't make any noise after all, and they had been taken away long ago anyway so there would be no unpleasant smell to deal with. It had sounded like a nice idea to just get up, take his book and wander into room 302. As an assassin, he wasn't freaked out by the sight of crime scenes anyway. He and his team were more often than not the cause of them in fact.

"Aha." Fran flicked the switch upwards, turning the light on in a triumphant kind of way.

The room had been cleaned and the carpets seemed to have been removed (probably because they hadn't managed to get the blood off)... it looked alright, the green-haired boy supposed. You wouldn't guess someone had died there... Fran had heard from the police that it had been quite a gruesome death too... lots of blood apparently.

Shrugging, the boy plopped himself down on the sofa, relishing the quiet that seemed to fill the room. It was a welcome change, Fran could live with that... despite the strangely cool temperature in there, a bit _too _cool, really.

But the air-conditioner hadn't been left running by accident... so what was it? It shouldn't be possible with the heat outside... The boy pushed the thought out of his mind, flipping his book open instead and intending to read on some more.

Of course, like it always seemed to happen, the universe just _had_ to be set on not letting him finish his book.

The lights flickered, and the young assassin felt like rolling his eyes as he looked up. What was this, one of these old, ridiculous horror movies? First the door, then the temperature, now the lights? What was next? The headless monster in the closet? Or maybe the creepy child climbing out of the TV? Perhaps the freaky little girl climbing down the stairs upside down? …. oh right, there were no staircases within the room... maybe a mutated cannibal would drop out of the ceiling?

Ridiculous... Fran sighed as he closed his book, having realized that he probably just would never get it done. He did raise an eyebrow though when he noticed his breath coming out in a puff of white smoke...

"What...?"

_You will pay._

The boy turned around quickly, green eyes scanning the room as he wet his lips. He had heard a voice... that much he was sure of...

_You **will** pay._

As Fran turned around to his original position, almost giving himself a whiplash, he could swear that for a moment there he saw... _something_. A woman. Pale and blonde. But there was no one there now.

"Fran? Hey, Fran!"

"Huh?" The boy blinked, head snapping back in the direction of the voice only to meet his senpai. The door was open behind him, letting the hallway's light stream in. The blonde seemed to have been waving a hand in front of his eyes for at least a few moments now... all of the Varia seemed to be standing behind him as well, looking around the room with varying degrees of disinterest.

"Finally, you dumb frog. We're going out for dinner." His senpai said pulling his hand away and crossing his arms behind his head as he grinned. "Hurry up before the prince cuts off your legs~"

Throwing one last look at the room, Fran shrugged, deciding to just forget about the whole thing and follow the others to wherever they were going. He was rather hungry after all, and he'd rather not have his legs severed by Prince The Ripper.

"Ah... senpai... why is your face wet?... And is that salt in your hair?"

"Shut up, frog."

* * *

**Hey there, I'm back with a new chapter (Yaaaay)! It's been horribly long, hasn't it? I honestly hadn't meant for it to take me that long to update buuuut... yeah, I'm a horrible updater, as you have probably realized XD Anyway, I hope the length of this chapter makes up for that, it's probably the longest chapter I've ever written, I'm very proud of it :D**

**Anyways, please tell me what you thought of it, ne?**

**Till next time! *waves and skips off because she's inexplainably happy right now***


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